


It's Not About The Color, Is It?

by FarrahGone



Series: Trixya Oneshots [2]
Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: College AU, F/F, From fighting to face sucking lol, Lesbian AU, Smut, Trixie is a fucking brat in this don't hate me, tw for violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:35:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25714417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FarrahGone/pseuds/FarrahGone
Summary: Trixie is a spoiled brat through and through. Katya is her new roommate. She hated the Russian girl for her dark aesthetic but it's really not about the color, is it?DISCLAIMER: I am very against plagiarism and a sucker for originality. If there are some aspects to this that match other authors' works (except for popular tropes, that is), it is purely coincidental and I give credit to whom credit is due.
Relationships: Trixie Mattel/Katya Zamolodchikova
Series: Trixya Oneshots [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1855720
Comments: 4
Kudos: 59





	It's Not About The Color, Is It?

After graduating high school, Trixie Mattel is really excited to go out and discover herself, expand her social circles, and pave the way to her future. The bubbly 18-year-old peered out her parents’ limousine as they passed her high school, uttering a silent farewell to the place where she grew up as a young adult. Today is moving day, and the thought of living far from her luxurious mansion with a stranger thrills her. Getting into the university that she wanted to was a piece of cake, and honestly, her parents expected it.

She had straight A’s, her teachers gave her high praises for her love of Literature, Math, and History. She always made sure to ace all her exams and quizzes, turn in projects in time, or earlier if possible. She read her notes every day and was not above drinking as much coffee as her body allowed her on nights where she studied extra hard. Like any other hard-working students, the pressure and stress did get to her, especially in her last year before going to university.

She never, ever let it show, though. Trixie is a very nerdy  _ mathlete _ , stylish, always decked in pink and pastel tones from head to toe. She is always perfectly poised, her makeup perfect, her waist-length honey-blonde hair and her outfits on point as far as the school would let her get away with. Trixie always held herself together, exuding an air of confidence and certainty when in the presence of other people. 

Her parents had high hopes of her, in terms of a professional career and what "high" is to their standards. They dreamt of having a fashionable doctor, or a lawyer, even. Nothing can get in her way when she’s on a mission, and her extreme caution and attention to small details qualify her for the aforementioned professions.

When the day came, the Mattel couple sat their daughter down after a lavish dinner, three days shy of her graduation. They were eager to hear what path their daughter, their only child, decided to take. They had the shock of their lives when Trixie announced that she will major in social psychology. They were surprised, but not at all disappointed. Still, they tried to tell her that she had other options, and had all the time in the world to reconsider. Dutiful as she always is, the curvy soon-to-be college freshman pretended to staunchly consider her parents’ suggestions, taking up another hour of the evening before her parents finally conceded. It was her life after all. 

Trixie is next to perfection. She’s hardworking, intelligent, and dare she say, gorgeous. She knew she did well most of her life, and she knew what she deserves; especially what she wants. One thing about Trixie is, she can be very bratty when things don’t go her way, which is not often. Trixie always gets what she wants. Normally, her charming smile and batting her eyelashes get her whatever she needs and desire, however, this was not the case that particular morning.

Trixie practically sprinted to the building, her parents, and a multitude of helpers following her track. She already knew where her room would be, and that her very first roommate had moved in the previous day. Entering her meager dorm room, it gave her lukewarm feelings. It was decent, to say the least. It was a studio type room with twin beds, one bed on each side of the room, a small kitchen sink beside a really tiny dining area, and a small door that leads to what she assumed to be the bathroom. She can live with that, she thought.

The more she walked around, the heavier her negative feelings weighed in. In contrast to the room’s pearl-white paint, most of the items on her roommate’s side were black. Black bedsheets, a black swivel chair with a black mandala patterned throw blanket, and what looks to be a poster of a demon creature taped just above the bed’s headboard. There was a worn-out antique dresser installed on that side too, littered with a flurry of makeups and an alarming number of doll parts, a disgusting mannequin head staring right at her. It was a definitive decision for her; she turned around, facing her parents who had just arrived.

“I want a new roommate.”

  
  
  
  


Trixie cried, whined, and even went as far as begging in a matter of thirty minutes when her parents broke the news. It was dramatic, sure, but she deemed her breakdown justifiable as she stared at the horrendous state of her roommates’ belongings.

“The Dean said it’s too late to transfer anyone to another room because there are no vacancies left, but she promised that she will do something about this if someone drops out by the middle or the end of the semester.”

Trixie rolled her eyes. She can’t stomach the thought of the black objects clashing with the delicate blush pink of her belongings.

“Surely we can ask them to switch? Or help them get an apartment off-campus?” She tried.

“Honey, your father and I thought that maybe it’s about time that you deal with adult responsibilities like this. It will be no big deal. We actually met your roommate on our way up here, Katya. She’s very nice and polite. She promised not to smoke up here.” her mom says to appease the teenager.

The truth is, they had begged Katya to switch and even offered to pay for her apartment, but the girl declined and adamantly said  _ “We’re adults and we will sort this out.” _ , pertaining to Trixie and herself. They will never disclose this to their daughter, though.

“And she smokes? Come on, mom!” Trixie whines.

“Beatrice, I think that your mom is right. Be an adult about it. You have a bed, a bathroom, enough money to cover your food and bills. You’ll live.” Mr. Mattel counters, he was offended by Trixie’s roommate’s words but knew them to be true.

The statement stung for Trixie. She had never heard her father lose her cool towards her incredulous demands until now.

After setting up her side of the room, her parents left with a promise to visit at least once a month, and a stern reminder to be nice to her roommate. Trixie sat alone in her bed, trying not to cry as she stared at the black monstrosity right across from her. The more she looks at it, the creepier and unsettling it gets. The demon poster sent shivers down her spine. She would’ve bolted from the room had it the thing been closer to her.

“Hey, Barbie.” Trixie whipped her head rather quickly, her eyes snapping towards the door that was still open.

Warmth blossomed on Trixie’s chest initially. She prided herself for successfully embodying the famous doll’s aesthetics. She was delighted, at least for a couple of moments, until she caught the other woman’s eyes.

She was smirking, looking at Trixie patronizingly. Her blood-red lips curled up into a mocking smirk. For the first time since she was in grade school, someone is not showing Trixie the kind of respect and admiration she usually and gladly receives. She felt inadequate, embarrassed by her outfit of choice. The girl is the embodiment of goth, as far as Trixie imagined it to be. She has pale skin, contrasting the all-black outfit that she wore; black boots with fishnets leading up to very-short shorts, and a cropped band tee that looks comfortably worn in. She had on a pair of what looks like earrings made of tampons and a choker. Her short, choppy platinum-blonde bob is accentuated by an uneven fringe. She’s skinny but toned, her muscles indicating heavy physical activities. Fury grew in Trixie’s chest. Who the fuck does this pretentious vampire wannabe think she is?

Trixie put on a fake smile, the one she puts on when she argues with her high school principal about her outfit.

“You must be Katya. I’m Beatrice Mattel. Call me Trixie.” She emphasized her family name. The Mattel Paint Company is the biggest paint supplier in the state. She stood from where she was sprawled about, her heels making her tower over her supposed roommate. The girl chuckled dryly, but took her hand and shook it anyway.

“Yeah. I was told.” She says bluntly. She raked her eyes over Trixie, scrutinizing every single part of her outfit. Not one to back off of a challenge, Trixie subtly ran her hands from her tiny waist to her hips, popping her body to one side just slightly. This made Katya laugh out loud, further embarrassing the girl with honey-blonde hair.

“Your parents warned me about that. They’re cool.” Katya spoke as she walked towards her bed. She sat and began taking her boots off, massaging her ankles lightly.

“About what, exactly?” Trixie couldn’t hide her surprise and indifference this time.

“About this pussy pink unicorn explosion. Don’t worry, I don’t mind. Just keep them on that side.”

Trixie blushed at the remark, her hands curling into fists on her sides.

“Well, did they ask you about-“

“Yes, yes they did. I said no. “She grinned triumphantly at this, looking at Trixie as if she won merely because Trixie didn’t even know it was a competition.

“I think we can be great friends, really. We can buy you some things so that your corner doesn’t look too bland.” Trixie tries and bribes Katya. This seemed to switch something inside Katya.

Katya takes off her other boot, carelessly letting it fall on the floor with a clack.

She looked right into Trixie’s light brown eyes, her steel gray pair piercing, dangerous.

“We can be friends if you don’t mess with my shit.” She smiles now, a close-lipped polite smile that suggests the end of the conversation.

Trixie was taken aback. That was two rejections in one day, more than what she’s used to. She just scoffed and begrudgingly walked to her closet, picking out a pair of pink silk pajamas to change into. Usually, people are flattered when they’re offered something as practical as shopping for their new home. She doesn’t know this girl yet, but she’s starting to hate her.

She walked to the bathroom, determined to ignore her roommate for however long she stayed awake. She quickly wiped her makeup off, and then meticulously went through her extreme skincare routine, slapping what must be a million different products on her body. She didn’t feel like taking a shower. She changed into her sleep clothes. Walking out of the bathroom, she realized that the sun had barely set. It’s still early in the evening. 

Katya was putting her boots back on. The fishnets were gone, and she was now wearing a deep red long-sleeved dress that was form-fitting, the hem barely grazing her mid-thigh. She wanted to say something, at least bid her goodbye as she was obviously leaving, but the memory of their earlier interaction and her pride told her to face the wall, and pretend to sleep.

After a few more adjustments with her outfit, Katya walked towards the door. Too lazy to dig her keys from her purse, she looked over her shoulder.

“Trixie, can you close the door behind me?” It was a simple task, really, but Trixie decided to be a bitch and ignore her. Katya rolled her eyes. This is gonna be a long semester.

“Fucking brat.” She mutters, loud enough for Trixie to hear before slamming the door behind her. Trixie scrunched her forehead but bit her tongue.

The next day, Trixie woke up rather early, the sight of the mannequin head knocking her into consciousness the moment she opened her eyes. The previous night was spent watching movies on her laptop, talking to her friends, and some other idle stuff. Seeing that Katya isn’t even home yet, she regrets not cranking her favorite vibe out and relieve some stress. What a wasted opportunity. It was only seven in the morning. 

Trixie stretched for a little while before changing into a simple periwinkle tee tucked in a pair of white high-waist shorts for the day. She walked to the bathroom to brush her teeth and wash her face, there isn’t really much to do. School doesn’t start until the end of the week. Looking at the shared space by the bathroom shelf, Trixie observed her beauty and hygiene products mingled with Katya’s. That somehow gave her an idea. Maybe she can ease her goth roommate into putting more color on her side slowly.

She tossed her pajamas into her laundry bin and started going through one of her pink suitcases. It took her a while to find what she was looking for but that look of triumph on her face was incomparable as she looked at her little handiwork. She had all the time in the world for the next three days, so she decided to explore the rest of the campus and probably get some breakfast after, and so she did.

Trixie enjoyed her day out more than she thought she would. So far, she already knows the easiest routes to all her classes and she got to know a few other students too. There’s Violet and their girlfriend Pearl, Fame, and the cute couple next door Kim and Bob. 

It was about past noon when she made her way back to her dorm room. Just as she opened the door, she saw someone walking towards her out of the corner of her eyes. It was Katya, wearing last night’s outfit. Trixie was surprised to see her looking exactly the way she did when they met less than twenty-four hours ago, perfectly applied makeup and all.

They greeted each other with a polite nod. Trixie let Katya walk in first. They were silent, maybe they weren’t in the mood to talk, or maybe last night’s interaction was still fresh in Katya’s mind. Trixie blushed at the memory. A couple steps in; Katya turned on her heels and glared at Trixie angrily. 

“What the fuck did you do to my things?” Katya pointed a finger at her; her other hand vaguely gesturing towards her side of the room.

Trixie didn’t think it was a big deal. She took a spare purple throw blanket and switched it for the mandala one on Katya’s chair. She thought she did a great service when she threw Katya’s weird collection of doll parts into tiny pink storage boxes neatly. 

“I-Your side of the room is too dark-“

**“It’s not about the color, is it?”** Katya cut her off. Her tone is venomous, it was deadly. She continued.

“What? Why-“

“I know your type, Mattel, and I’m telling you right now, this will not fly!” Katya is fuming; her fists were clenched on either side of her body.

“W-why are you acting like I killed your pet? It’s not a big deal!” Trixie wouldn’t admit it but the sight actually terrified her. Nobody has ever shown that level of fury towards her, not even her parents.

“It wasn’t until you decided that you can touch other people’s things. I’m so done.” Katya sighs, walking towards the bathroom and slamming the door.

Trixie wiped her tears. She was embarrassed. She was angry at Katya, for rejecting what she thought was a nice gesture; and at herself for being such a baby and crying over the whole situation. She knew she was wrong, but she’s not ready to admit that yet.

It was just the beginning.

Things just escalated from their second day as roommates. Petty fights and arguments about mundane things began, from who would take out the trash, Katya accidentally spilling red lipstick on the bathroom sink, to Trixie hogging up their fridge space with her pink smoothies. 

Their “neighbors” enjoyed these banters, sometimes peeking out in the hallway to see Trixie and Katya argue about something as simple as getting groceries as they did now. It was all funny and cute, like some “I bet you fifty bucks they’d bone soon” type of thing, until it wasn’t. It was just a disturbance, especially during the night.

  
  


Sasha rolled her eyes as she leaned into Trixie and Katya’s doorway. She knew exactly what happened there, and she already knew how the conversation would progress. The freshmen sat on their respective beds, trying to look as innocent as possible, their activities halted by the RA busting the door open.

“Third time this week, guys. It was funny, but it’s just stupid and childish now. Can you at least keep it down? Even Kim and Bob are complaining now and they’re the most tolerant people around here.”

“We were just talking about how my  _ perfectly mature and not-at-all spoiled roommate _ didn’t like the fact that I didn’t get to buy her favorite brand of almond milk because it’s not on Wal-Mart, Normal stuff, you know.” Katya smiles sweetly at the other Russian, trying to hide her annoyance as Trixie huffed from the other side of the room.

“I told her not to get the groceries from that place, Sasha. I-“Trixie tries to reason.

“I told her it’s all I can afford, Sasha. Thank you, I think we can take this very  _ adult serious issue _ from here.” Katya says dismissively and even before Sasha says anything else, she was nudging the older Russian out of the doorway and closed the door.

It wasn’t the best of days for Katya. She failed a test, and it was crucial as her scholarship required a maintaining GPA so that she wouldn’t be kicked out of the pool. She begged her professor for extra work and extra credit, but all she got was _ “Try and study harder next time.“ _

As if Satan himself has taken a liking to torture Katya that very day, she broke her phone, was informed that her job at the bakery down the street will be put on hold due to her boss going through a legal battle with her husband, now this. She came home to this, another embarrassing encounter with her roommate. She’s had enough. 

She turned around with a sigh as if to calm herself down.

“I’m sorry if I don’t have a fuckton of money to shop at those fancy grocery stores. Can you just be an adult about it and make it work?”

She sounded tired, desperate even. They’re nearing half the semester now and Katya held out hope that someone will move out, or will want to switch with her, even going as far as offering herself as a third to Kim and Bob just so she could get away from the pink devil’s spawn. The couple initially agreed to let her move in but refused the sexual proposition. Sasha informed them that two people can only live at the dorms every semester, but are welcome to “receive visitors” a couple of nights a week, a loophole that Katya has used and abused over and over.

The tension only grew thicker every time they tried to interact, and they tried so many times. Trixie is fine on some days, but most of the time, she just can’t wrap her head around the facts that 1.) She can’t get everything she wants at the palm of her hands. 2.) She can’t make people do everything she wants; whether she can pay them or not, and most importantly, 3.) Money can’t solve everything.

Katya tried to be as civil as she can, but the girl just pushes her limits every fucking time. Katya spent countless nights crashing on her friends’ rooms, complaining about her roommate. Trixie is gorgeous, but she’s more than that. Sharing a few gen-cred classes as freshmen, Katya knew just how smart she is. She’s always up for discussion, never letting an angle be unexplored. She knows when to push her point, and just when to concede when she’s proven otherwise.  _ If only she was like that in real-life situations then we wouldn’t have to argue like kids every single time, _ Katya thought to herself.

She also has this twisted sense of humor that Katya likes. Katya admired how she drew people towards her despite her bratty attitude, dismissing it as a cute personality trait. She just exudes so much positivity that it overshadows her apparent immaturity. It was unfortunate because Trixie is actually her type, but contrary to most people, she finds her attitude off-putting. When people like Fame and Violet try to tell her that Trixie’s  _ “not that bad” _ , she sighs and shakes her head, chalking it up to the fact that they’d never had to live with her like she did.

“You make everything a big deal. Why don’t you just…” Trixie trailed off.

“Why don’t I just _ what, _ Trixie? Do as you say? Accept your money when you ruin my stuff?” Katya is staring directly at her, challenging, looking for answers. All her calmness was far gone, she was angry, she was boiling on the inside and she’s bound to explode.

“I tried to pay for that mandala blanket, Katya.” It was lame and entitled, but it’s all Trixie can do now that she’s running out of excuses.

“But you never apologized for it. You of all people are telling me that I make everything a big deal when you started all of this just because of my shit that you hated so much.”

“I-“ Trixie frantically rummaged her brain for something, anything to say, but as she looked up, Katya’s eyes were dark, they were focused, almost as if Katya’s body is inhabited by supernatural forces and it’s showing through her eyes.

**“It’s not about the color, is it?”**

Whether Trixie grew pale or blushed profusely, she doesn’t know. She’s got no way of knowing. Her knees buckled at Katya’s words, and she’s sure that she would’ve fallen on her ass if she wasn’t already sitting down. Katya continued.

“This was never about the color. This was always about the fact that you didn’t have your way. This is about rejection and your pride. You want the upper hand. You want control. You want everything and everything at the palm of your fucking hands.” Katya walked towards Trixie’s bed slowly, eyes still fixed on hers, murderous. Trixie planted her feet firmly on the floor again as she tried to collect herself and look more put-together.

She almost audibly gasped. Katya’s words went right through her. Her face heated up considerably because of anger and embarrassment. No, Katya isn’t finished yet.

“People always give me hell about how I’m treating you. They ask me why I can’t just compromise for the sweet, sweet, bubbly, pretty Trixie. They don’t know this version of Trixie though. They don’t know that you’re fucking petulant, insufferable, self-centered, entitled-“

“Shut the fuck up, Zamo. You don’t know me. You don’t even talk to me.” Trixie is standing now, just a few inches away from Katya.

“How can I talk to someone who’s always yelling at me for something she could have done herself? You’re Barbie; you’re supposed to have moving parts. Why can’t you utilize them?” Katya laughed dryly. Trixie walked closer towards her.

“That is a lot of words-“

“I know,  _ momma _ . That is a lot of words when all I wanted to say is that you’re an obnoxious, spoiled rich bitch who thinks she owns everything because her parents are  _ painting all of America _ .” Katya said the last part in a taunting, sing-song voice, mocking her parents’ company tagline. That last comment had Trixie lunging towards Katya, her weight and height advantage almost knocking Katya off her feet. The Russian is faster, though. She managed to dodge Trixie’s hands aiming to grab her hair.

“You fucking bitch!” Katya quickly tackled her, both of them landing on her bed. Katya, now above her, tried to grip her hands, knees on either side of her hips.

“Are you insane, Mattel? What are you doing?!” Katya must’ve underestimated the taller’s strength because she broke free from her grip, her hands now pulling harshly on Katya’s hair. Katya yelped in pain. Her hands immediately flew over Trixie’s, trying to pry them off of her. She can feel the strands being ripped off of her scalp one by one. Beneath her, Trixie kept on pulling and thrashing around, still muttering expletives at Katya, questioning her audacity to insult her parent’s company. Katya scooted a bit higher and pressed her knees hard on Trixie’s sides. She grunted, using her grip on the short blonde hair, she pulled herself up so that they were both upright, no matter how awkward their position is, Katya now on Trixie’s lap. Katya gripped her shoulders, making her blunt nails dig and break into the skin. The spoiled human Barbie pulled the angry Russian closer.

“Let go, Trixie. This is ridiculous!” Their breaths are ragged, the proximity now giving them the opportunity to feel each other inhale and exhale. 

Their eyes met, of course. It was bound to happen, it was comical. Their heated glares meet inches away, willing the other to back down, to submit and let themself be dominated.

“Fuck.” 

Katya whispers, their eyes interacting in an unspoken agreement for a brief second before they leaned in at the same time. It was hard, forceful. Trixie felt her lower lip split from the impact. Katya tasted everything, lapping up her roommate’s mouth hungrily. She savored her peach-flavored lip balm, the fresh strawberries she must’ve had for dinner, and the iron-like taste of her blood. It was intoxicating. Trixie moaned and whimpered in Katya’s mouth. Their tongues slipped against each other, mixing their spit, sucking on each other’s mouth like there’s no tomorrow. Katya felt Trixie’s hands loosen her grip from her hair, she sighed at the feeling, but then she grabbed another fistful of her hair in one hand, desperately gripping again.

Katya moaned and rolled her hips in response. She liked it, liked how her body responded to the same level of pain differently, in different contexts. Trixie’s other hand now tugged on Katya’s. She stilled cautiously, waiting for Trixie’s next move. The living Barbie brought Katya’s hands towards her breasts one at a time, an obvious invitation. Katya squeezed and kneaded harshly. It was evident with Trixie’s groans. She lowered herself voluntarily, pulling Katya above her. The Russian, all worked up, continued playing with her breasts, scratching her nipples through her salmon pink nightgown to harden under her touch.

It was glorious. Trixie opened her legs to coax her roommate between them, pulling on her hair with a sense of urgency. Katya immediately trailed a hand under her shirt, pulling Trixie’s panties down her legs, over her feet, flinging the soaked material somewhere on the floor. They were somehow still kissing, moving with expertise, separating once in a while to catch a breath before diving in again.

Katya dragged Trixie’s shirt over her hips, just enough to expose her. She tested the waters by trailing her pointer finger from her perineum up to the hood of her clit. Trixie’s hips jerked at the action. “You’re soaked. You’re fucking dripping.” Katya breathily whispers. Trixie bore down on her slender finger desperately. “Can you take three?” Katya asks, giving her left ear a nip. Her tongue then soothed the irritated skin. Katya’s mouth now hovered over Trixie’s neck as she slid one finger inside the bratty teenager. She nipped on her exposed skin and her ears, licking everywhere her tongue could reach. Katya started moving her finger up and down the length of her labia, spreading the warm wetness dripping from Trixie’s sex.

With Trixie’s strangled moan and frantic nods, Katya slammed three fingers in firmly, the wetness surrounding her pussy letting the muscles receive her with a minimal stretch. The sudden movement made Trixie recoil instinctively at the contact but Katya pulled her closer by the flesh of her hip, sinking her digits deeper into her. “Take it.” The platinum blonde says through gritted teeth, certain that the honey blonde Barbie has adjusted, she moved her fingers faster, curling them inside Trixie in a steady pump, hitting her g-spot every single time. She, herself moaned as she felt Trixie’s muscles contract and relax with her movements.

In contrast to Katya’s rough movements, the honey-blonde Barbie loosened her grip on Katya’s hair, her fingers now softly massaging her scalp. She still hasn’t said a word, only sighing and moaning at Katya’s vigorous actions. However, her body dictated just what she wanted with the way she fucked into Katya’s fingers back as she massaged her own boobs. With her other hand, Katya rubbed Trixie’s clit harshly, the friction barely there because of Trixie’s slick juices, but enough to send her over the edge in a matter of seconds.

“Katya…” She arched her back as she came, her voice loud and strained but thick with need and lust.

Everything is at a standstill for a few minutes. The only sound they heard is their own breathing. Trixie’s still massaging the platinum blonde’s scalp, her other hand now trailing a finger over her sharp cheekbones and jawline.

“I hurt you-“ Trixie started, but Katya shushed her with a soft kiss.

“Plenty of time for that later.” Katya murmurs into her swollen lips before scooting lower, her hands and lips now lifting Trixie’s boob over the low neckline of her sleep shirt. Trixie felt guilty, so guilty it almost overshadowed her afterglow. Almost. Katya hadn’t come yet, and she wants to at least return the favor.

“But Katya-“

Katya lifted her gray hues and glared at the honey-blonde teenager. It was a warning.

“Still a brat, I see.” She growls in a low voice. As if to punish her for her behavior, Katya rolled Trixie’s nipple against her teeth hard, making Trixie moan loudly, then quickly scooted down the bed.

Confused, Trixie started to sit up but Katya grabbed both of her ankles, dragging her closer to the edge of the bed. With Katya’s head between her thighs, her legs wide apart, her nightgown tucked under her boobs and carelessly hiked up her hips, Trixie can only muster a shuddering breath. She bit her lip in focus, willing herself to memorize the sight before her. Of all the possible scenarios she imagined where Katya loses her patience, this was far tucked into the back of her mind, but she couldn’t be more thankful.

Maintaining eye contact, Katya licked a stripe over Trixie’s pussy with the flat of her tongue, then circling her clit teasingly. Trixie, still sensitive from her orgasm, shuddered, her hips jerking from the stimulation.

Trixie keened, and it was Katya’s undoing. She gripped Trixie’s thigh tighter and repeated the action. She parted Trixie’s lips with her fingers and fucked her tongue in and out of her, the rhythm incoherent and maddening for them both.

Katya drew every single sound imaginable from Trixie. She is loud, and everyone in the hallway has probably heard the culmination of tension that they eased ravenously. The thought didn’t cross Katya’s mind earlier, but with Trixie’s scandalous wails, there is no mistaking what is currently happening.

The Russian, now even more worked up, reached down under her skirt and buried two fingers inside her. She moaned right into Trixie’s cunt that is leaking her sickeningly sweet fluids. She fucked herself to the rhythm of her tongue selfishly lapping at the girl below her. She wiggled the strong muscle to impale the fucked-out Barbie doll. For a second time, Trixie climaxed, and it was even more intense than the first one. Her whole body trembled, her cries an octave higher as she clenched her thighs around Katya’s head. She tried to pull away as she came down but Katya, never letting Trixie have the upper-hand; just thrust her legs apart again and continued eating her out as if it was her first meal in weeks. She alternated between sucking, licking, and probing, even giving Trixie’s clit an experimental graze with her teeth. 

“K-kat…please…too much…” Trixie whined, shuddering at her oversensitivity after her third orgasm. Katya took pity and pulled away from her. With her last remaining drops of energy, Trixie supported herself with her elbows, raising up to watch as Katya quickened her pace with now three fingers in her vagina, until she spasmed and with a groan, came, clenching her trembling muscles on her own hands.

Their eyes met. Brown and grey hues that are so used to glaring at each other with so much hatred and distaste, now staring at each other with satisfaction, an unspoken show of gratitude, perhaps a sign of conceding, ending the senseless war that had begun over such a trivial thing. As Trixie caught her breath, Katya smirked.

“I wanna fuck my pussy against yours, you brat.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to C, who inspired me to publish this. Trixie's character is supposed to be bratty and annoying but don't hate the writer for that. It's fan fiction. chill.
> 
> All credits go to Mistress for creating the tag "from fighting to face sucking"


End file.
